


Horizontal Coping

by BearHatter



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9468707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearHatter/pseuds/BearHatter
Summary: When Casey and Sarah find out Chuck has panic attacks, they find a way to help him out... but that just leads to new complications.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is un-betaed, kind of rough. I've just felt like posting my rougher stuff lately without being a perfectionist.
> 
> Watch out for panic attacks.
> 
> I'm not 100% sure where I'm going with this, so if you have a preference, let me know if you'd like it to go; if Sarah should join in, keep it lighter and fluffier versus sexier, or whatever. Otherwise, I'll do what my whim tells me. :)

The mission hadn’t, in the scheme of things, been that bad. They’d gotten the bad guy, the intel, and a nice trip up the Oregon coast (it wasn’t Paris, but they did get a nice hotel, and hey, apparently it’s the place to be for evil vegan scientists, so there’s that). But um, also, Chuck had gotten drugged. Injected, actually. And... that kind of put a damper on things for him.

Chuck had been threatened by a lot of things already on missions, had been questioned, interrogated, even pretty roughed up once or twice--but Sarah and Casey had always come through before anything really bad could happen. They came through this time, too, but still some part of him wished they had made it before he had to watch an unwanted needle filled with dubious substance going under his skin.

What came after that wasn’t pleasant, either; Chuck was a little out of it, but there was definitely babbling, and dizziness, and being sick in the bad guys’ restroom. But Sarah soothed him with an arm around his shoulders and a cool hand on his forehead, while Casey, business-like and incisive as usual, found the antidote and stabbed him with it without warning.

Sometimes it was hard to decide how to feel about that guy. But while he and Sarah both bundled Chuck up to his room, it was Casey who tapped his earpiece and raised his eyebrows, the non-expression of his that meant he would be listening if needed. That expression used to really creep Chuck out, but he appreciated it now.

This business was definitely messing with his head.

That fact asserted itself strongly when he woke up a little later having a panic attack. An anxiety attack? What was the difference? Where was the line? What actually mattered, Chuck told himself over and over, is that it wasn’t an actual, physical attack. Nothing was happening. But Chuck’s body wasn’t listening to him, and he couldn’t stop looking at the marks this mission had left on him and struggling for breath.

He turned on the lights, all of them, clutched his phone to himself, tried retreating to the corner of the room so he could at least  _ see _ everything--but it wasn’t working, and he  _ couldn’t breathe _ , and he just needed--he called Casey.

Casey was just finishing changed out of his TAC vest and doing the usual room check before he went to sleep when his phone sounded the vibration and single beep that meant someone was calling. It could really only be one person, but he still glanced at the caller ID before picking up.

“Chuck,” he answered, making sure to put enough demand in the word to get him talking, fast.

But he already was, and something was wrong with his breathing. “Casey, I--sorry, I--I just think I--could you--I don’t know--” Chuck wasn’t finishing phrases, let alone sentences, and he was taking huge fast breaths that crackled over the phone.

“On my way.” Casey hung up and stuffed his favorite gun in the back of his sweatpants before jogging to Chuck’s room down the hall

The first thing he noticed after stepping through the door and locking it behind him (it should have been locked already, how many times had they been over this?) was that all the lights were on, bathroom, closet, nightstand, all of them. Chuck was sitting in the corner hugging him knees, the phone on the floor next to him. He gave Casey a wild look when he first came in and was just staring wide-eyed at him now, heavy breaths shaking his body.

“Was anyone here?” Casey grunted. He didn’t really think so, but it was confirmed with a shake of Chuck’s head.

He did an armed perimeter check anyway, largely to settle Chuck’s mind, and turned off some of the extra lights on the way. Then he tucked his gun back in his pants and headed over to Chuck’s huddled form. Chuck’s eyes darted away from him now.

“Just a panic attack,” Casey said, gruff but not unkind. Chuck nodded.

“Yeah, I just--doesn’t seem like--” Chuck looked at Casey helplessly, and Casey grabbed his upper arm to haul him up.

“Come on,” said Casey, tugging him to the bed, “Let’s get you more horizontal.” Chuck went without resistance, only locking his own hands around Casey’s forearm so that when Casey tried to lay him out, Chuck was also dragging him down insistently.

Casey sighed and put his gun on the nightstand. This was probably some last effects of the drug, and Chuck might need a little human contact to come down from it. “Just ride it out,” Casey murmured, kind of to Chuck, but he wasn’t listening, just pulling. When Casey gave in and got on the bed, he latched onto him right away, trembling like a greyhound.

“Calm down, you’re fine,” Casey ordered, wrapping an arm around Chuck’s shoulders to compress them like he’d been taught in Asset Handling. Chuck obeyed, his huge breaths slowing down a lot as he tugged himself closer with an arm around Casey’s chest and a leg hooked around his. Tremors still ran through him, but he was already doing better.

“Want me to call Walker?” Casey asked after a few minutes, when Chuck didn’t seem to improve much more.

“...yes,” Chuck said in a small voice, but “No!” when Casey started to get up.

“Is it yes or no, Bartowski?” demanded Casey, letting Chuck fist a hand in his shirt to keep him where he was.

“Yes to Sarah coming, no to you leaving,” Chuck said, rushing all the words together, and Casey grimaced and extracted a hand to reach the phone in his pocket.

He hit a speed dial and waited as it rang twice. Maybe she was already in bed. She picked up on the third ring, though. “We’ve got a small situation in Chuck’s room,” said Casey, not waiting for a hello. “No equipment needed, except you’ll have to unlock the door yourself.”

“On my way,” she said, and sure enough, just a couple minutes after he put the phone down, she was jimmying the door.

Chuck let out a breath shakily and slid his head forward to lean into Casey’s jaw, just under his ear. He was kind of clammy but Casey foun he didn’t mind. What was most surprising was that Chuck didn’t move from there, not even turning around when Walker locked the door behind her and, seeing the situation, climbed right into bed behind him without blinking an eye. 

“Sarah,” Chuck sighed and reached a hand back blindly. She took it and slotted herself along his back, comfortingly. 

“You’re okay, Chuck,” she soothed. “What happened?”

Chuck just shrugged, pulling her arm across his waist, and Casey found himself forced to answer. “Panic attack,” he said shortly. “Probably just from coming off the drug.”

“Yeah, probably,” Chuck mumbled into his neck, sounding a little relieved, “It’s never been this bad before.”

Sarah heard, and looked at Casey very sharply.  _ He’s been having panic attacks? _ She asked with a tilt of her eyebrows.

_ Not that I knew of, _ replied Casey with a twitch of his shoulder. Chuck didn’t notice.

“How long has this been happening, Chuck?” she asked softly.

“Couple of months,” Chuck answered, voice still muffled, still more out of it than normal--which was kind of saying something, in Casey’s opinion.

_ You should have known, _ Sarah’s fierce frown said to Casey. He just glared stonily back. Chuck’s well-being was just as much her responsibility as it was his. He did feel a little bad about mission this, though. Chuck  _ had _ had a rough couple of months.

“How often?” asked Sarah, smoothing Chuck’s hair away from his face and settling in a little more.

“Ummm, about once a week or something?” Chuck huffed. He kept blowing hot air down Casey’s neck when he sighed. It was giving him goosebumps.

“Well, don’t worry Chuck, it’ll be okay. We’ll take care of you,” said Sarah.

“Yeah, I know,” said Chuck, sounding equal parts comforted and apologetic. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” she insisted, “We understand.”

Casey let himself nod slightly, knowing Chuck would feel it. Chuck’s moments of trembling slowly ebbed away until he was still.

“Okay,” he said after a while, voice slurred with sleepiness, “I think I’m okay.”

“Good,” Casey grunted, but he and Sarah still waited for him to fall asleep before extricating themselves from his floppy limbs. Then Sarah tucked Chuck in while Casey resettled his gun and checked that the window was locked.

Sarah stopped him with a hand on his arm just before the door on their way out. “He can’t keep having panic attacks on his own,” she whispered.

Casey nodded. “So how do you want to handle it?”

Sarah hesitated. “You’re closer to him, especially at night,” she said, just a little reluctantly.

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly Mister Cuddly over here,” Casey pointed out.

Sarah gave him a look that said he was being stupid. “He called  _ you _ first, tonight.”

Strange, but true. “Does that bother you?” Casey asked, just curious. He was a little surprised, admittedly, when she shook her head immediately.

“He trusts us both in different ways,” she murmured, still mindful of Chuck, even though he slept like a rock. “He knows you’ll protect him and you won’t make a fuss. He sees you as a very solid person in his life and he cares about you.”

Casey could never do the people-reading mumbo-jumbo crap the CIA loves. “Yeah, ok,” he rolled his eyes.

“That’s not from reading body language, Casey,” she said, apparently from reading his body language, and nailing him with another don’t-be-stupid look. “I’ve talked with him about it. He’s told me.

That stopped him in his tracks for a couple seconds. “Well, heaven forbid he ever have such a conversation with me,” he growled. It was Sarah’s turn to roll her eyes, and for some reason she smiled a little.

He turned to the door, thoroughly ready for some undisturbed shut-eye, but Sarah stopped him again. “You’ll take care of this, right? You’ll take care of him?”

“Yeah,” Casey nodded, and they parted ways.

On the jet home, while Sarah was in the bathroom, Casey turned to Chuck. “You have another one of those attacks, you call me immediately.”

“Ok,” Chuck replied, but it didn’t seem like he was paying much attention so Casey glared at him until he said “Ok! Ok! I call you immediately, got it, geez.”

Casey sat back satisfied.

Nothing happened with it for about a week and a half, but then one night, sure enough, Casey got a text from Chuck simply saying  _ it’s happening. _

It was already late, Ellie and Devon already asleep, so casey had no qualms about slipping through Chuck’s window and locking it behind him. Chuck yelped like a puppy from where he was curled up on the bed, presumably out of surprise. That was probably what prompted Casey to go over and grab the back of his neck and shake him a little, although honestly, it was something he often felt prompted to do.

“Calm down,” he instructed.

“Yeah, it’s as easy as that, thank you John Casey,” Chuck muttered sarcastically. He was shivering, and clammy again.

“Why are you so cold? Try having some self-preservation instincts or something, Bartowski,” Casey grumbled as he man-handled Chuck under the covers. He wasn’t really surprised when Chuck grabbed his arm again with his gamers’ iron grip, and he let Chuck pull him into bed and tuck his head into his jaw again, since it had worked last time. After a while, Chuck’s breathing smoothed out and his muscles relaxed, but he started twitching, as though he wasn’t sure what was coming next.

“Go to sleep,” Casey said. After a few minutes, Chuck obeyed, and Casey slipped out of his grip and out of the room, yawning.

If his job had a description, this would not be in it, he thought to himself.

But it was a little thing, and it kept his team happy, and John Casey usually tried to take care of his team. He’d gotten a little attached to this one, he had to admit (just to himself).

It became kind of a pattern they settled into. It happened usually just once every week or two, sometimes more after a really rough mission. Chuck would text Casey, and Casey would go over to provide human contact and order Chuck to go to sleep. Occasionally, if it was really bad, Sarah would come over too. It worked, it was simple.

Maybe Casey got a little too complacent about it; once or twice, over after long missions, he’d fall asleep. He was getting used to Chuck’s body and breath on him. He maybe wasn’t as vigilant as he should have been.

So he was kind of dozing himself when Ellie got home after a late shift and opened Chuck’s door, catching them in bed. All of Casey’s muscles tensed, but it was too late.

“Chuck, did you--what-- _ John? _ ” Her mouth fell completely open, but only for a second before screeching, “Chuck! How could you do this to Sarah?”

Casey opened his mouth to completely deny and and all of the implications contained in that statement, but Chuck beat him to it somehow even in his tired-drunk state. He peeled his face off Casey’s neck (he’d lost all regard for personal space some time ago) to mumble, lips brushing Casey’s skin, “Sarah’s okay with it. She comes over too, sometimes.”

Ellie’s eyes went, if possible, even wider. “OH. Okay. Well. Okay, sorry for, uh--implying--” she glanced between the two of them and retreated behind the door as she closed it. “Sorry to interrupt! Um--good night!”

There was a long, long moment of silence; painful to Casey, but Chuck was probably oblivious. “Chuck,” Casey said in a dangerous tone. “Do you realize your sister now believes that we are in a bisexual threesome?”

“She already knew I was bisexual,” Chuck mumbled, brushing it off, but Casey saw the rest of the sentence sink in as he woke up a little. “Oh. Crap. Um. Sorry?”

“Not as sorry as you’re gonna be,” threatened Casey, tensing, and Chuck scrambled back from him.

“Hey! Hey!” Chuck yelped, “No violence. We are in my house.”

Casey supposed he had a point. He decided to put off revenge for later. “What do you mean you’re bi, Bartowski? That wasn’t in your file.”

“Well, maybe not everything is in your precious files,” Chuck said defensively, but then deflated. “It’s more theoretical, I guess. I’ve never really had a relationship with a guy. Hardly any with girls either, so.”

“Is this some new dimension of your relationship with Bruce Larkin?” Casey pressed further, “Because knowing things like that can--”

“No!” Chuck interrupted. “Nope. Nada. I may have had a  _ small _ crush on him, a  _ long _ time ago, but he never even knew.”

Casey doubted that, but still. Good info to know.

“Well, I hoped you have some idea for cleaning up this mess with Ellie,” said Casey, “Or there’s gonna be a whole new dimension to your cover.”

Chuck blanched and buried his head in a pillow. “Oh, wow. Okay, um... in the morning? We’ll talk about it in the morning?”

Casey harrumphed but implied concession by escaping that room then and there to get back to his apartment and a nice, settling glass of scotch.

Walker was gonna love this.

Chuck called Sarah first thing in the Morning, before Casey, or more importantly Ellie, could have a chance to corner him.

“Good morning, Chuck,” she answered on the second ring, sounding concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong?” Chuck protested out of reflex. “Maybe I’m just calling.”

“It’s a full hour earlier than you usually choose to wake up,” said Sarah. “What happened?”

Chuck explained. And then waited.

“Okay,” Sarah said slowly, “This could get complicated.”

“You’re telling me!” Chuck gestured wildly, even though it was visible over the phone. “I’m fairly certain Casey will kill me if I don’t figure this out.”

“Casey wouldn’t kill you, Chuck,” Sarah said patiently, “But we should all probably discuss this as soon as possible.  _ Before _ you talk to Ellie about it.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Chuck said. “I’m thinking if just sneaking out the window this morning.:

“Good idea,” said Sarah in all seriousness. “And we’ll meet in the Castle on lunch break. I’ll let Casey know.:

“Great,” Chuck said to the hung-up phone in his hand. “We’ll do that then.”

He was dressed and out the window a lot faster than normal, and arrived at work a full half-hour early. 

“You’re up bright and early today, aren’t you Chuck,” said Big Mike when he saw him. He liked to come in early because he claimed early hours counted double for management, which meant he’d leave work as soon as possible. “Good work ethic.”

“Thanks Big Mike,” Chuck said weakly It was going to be a long morning.

Chuck was fully expecting to be on the receiving end of some truly horrifying Casey glares all day up till lunch, but they weren’t happening. The one time Casey caught him staring at him apprehensively, he just raised an eyebrow and got back to what he was doing.

“Got your eye on Casey, huh Chuck?” Morgan murmured over Chuck’s shoulder, making him jerk violently. “I don’t blame you for looking. But uh, he could probably chew you up and spit you out? Just saying. And of course, you have Sarah to think of.”

“Yeah, don’t worry buddy, I know,” Chuck said. Boy, did he.

He tried to duck out to lunch a little early, but both Casey and Sarah were already there when he arrived at Castle. Sarah was leaning back against the table, looking calm and composed, while Casey managed to do his threatening, crossed-arms pose while sitting. Chuck had a sudden intense desire to turn right back around and leave, but the door slid shut, blocking his retreat.

“Uh, hi, guys,” Chuck broke the loaded silence as awkwardly as possible, and winced.

Sarah smiled at him sympathetically. “Hi, Chuck. Have a seat.”

Chuck eyed Casey and chose a chair on the far end of the table. “I’d just like to start by apologizing. Really, truly, I am sorry for this guys, it was unintentional--”

“Shut up, Chuck,” said Casey.

Sarah shot him a look. “Chuck, what really matters now is how we deal with... the situation,” she said briskly. “We have, as I see it, basically three options. Number One, try to find a different, plausible explanation for Casey being in Chuck’s bed last night--”

“Uh, once Ellie gets an idea in her head, it’s kind of stuck there,” Chuck interrupted.

“--however, any reason we could come up with will not likely be very plauible,” Sarah finished her sentence dryly. Casey sighed rather gustily, but didn’t argue.

“Option Number Two,” Sarah straightened to pull out a chair and sit, looking between Chuck and Casey, “Would be to stage some kind of break-up for Ellie. She would probably believe it, especially with the strain of discovery, but it would make it more difficult to keep close contact without suspicion.”

“Which leads us to option Three?” Chuck said hopefully.

“This oughtta be good,” Casey muttered.

Sarah leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table. “Option Three is that we go with it as our new cover. It has the benefit of putting a new spin on our secrecy for Ellie, an excuse to be talking to each other often and in private, and wouldn’t require much upset of current circumstances.” She looked amazingly matter-of-fact.

“How is you two being in a polyamorous relationship with  _ me _ plausible?” Chuck burst out, and when Casey snickered, pointed to him. “And speaking of upset, why aren’t you more upset?”

Casey rolled his eyes. “This isn’t my first time at the rodeo, Chuck. I’ve swung a lot of ways in my career. I still think you’re an idiot for letting this happen, but I’ve talked it over with Walker and I agree. This will be helpful for the mission.”

“Well, as long as it’s good for the mission,” Chuck mumbled, a little dazed and incredulous.

“And don’t you forget it,” Casey smiled terrifyingly, and Chuck flinched back.

Which reminded Sarah. “So... we’ll need to adjust our body language. Casey, Chuck: you’ll need to act much more familiar. Less intimidation, at least.” Chuck perked up at that, and Casey sighed, regretfully.

“But, we don’t have to, like, actually,” Chuck gulped, “...do anything, right?”

“I do zero, zero pda at the Buy More,” Casey stated unequivocally.

“That’s fine, Casey,” Sarah smiled patiently, “We don’t need to... ‘out ourselves’ publically at all. And to answer your question, Chuck, you’ll only need to show enough affection to be believable.”

“Which includes... what, exactly?” said Chuck, soundly kind of lost, still.

“Probably no more than you and Casey have already been doing,” Sarah said, “but in certain situations it would probably be helpful for the two of you to kiss, at least.”

Chuck sputtered a little, both at the idea that they had already been engaged in some... intimate behavior--which, I mean, if you insisted on looking at it that way, they had, but he had certainly never looked at it that way--and, of course, at the suggestion... the image... kissing John Casey? Really? He whipped his head to see what Casey’s reaction was, but it was frustratingly unmoved.

“Um. Uh. Okay?” Chuck said finally. It wasn’t exactly a repellant idea. Casey was... okay, if you looked at him objectively and without severe intimidation, he was hot. Chuck had just... always tried to be careful not to think of him that way. And now here he was, supposed to kiss him? It was... an adjustment to say the least.

“Okay, great,” Sarah said. And waited.

“What, now?” said Chuck.

“You need practice to make it seem natural,” Sarah rolled her eyes a little as if it were obvious. And waited.

Casey looked over at Chuck, basically frozen in his chair, rolled his own eyes, and stood up. “Come on, Bartowski, it’s not rocket science.” He strode over, hauled Chuck up by the collar, and pressed their lips together.

It was pretty awkward for a few seconds, especially since Chuck lost his balance, but once he braced his hands on Casey’s arms, feeling his warmth, feeling the familiarity of his muscles, it... suddenly wasn’t. Suddenly, Chuck was very turned on. Casey was a  _ good _ kisser, if a bit aggressive. After a few moments, Sarah coughed politely, and Chuck pulled back to find one of his arms had snaked around Casey’s neck. Meanwhile, Casey had an arm wrapped around his waist. Chuck was breathing a little harder, his mouth tingling. Casey smirked, but didn’t let go too fast either.

“Okay, great,” said Sarah, looking slightly surprised and a little too pleased. “You obviously have chemistry. We’ll just... see where we have to take it from here, okay?”

**Author's Note:**

> I had an image in my mind in the last scene of Sarah wanting to push their heads together and say, "now, kiss!" Hahaha. Feedback much appreciated, but don't feel obligated!


End file.
